


A Two-Way Street

by ilovehowyouletmefall



Series: Trustverse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, still comfortably within canon events though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovehowyouletmefall/pseuds/ilovehowyouletmefall
Summary: Twelve years after meeting, falling in love, and going their separate ways, Rupert Giles and Jenny Calendar find each other again in Sunnydale. They already know each other's secrets, so that means being in a relationship should be simple, right?
Relationships: Jenny Calendar/Rupert Giles
Series: Trustverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966909
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	1. Day Dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> So I told myself I was never going to post another WIP again, and yet, here I am... But this is less of a story and more of a collection of scenes of what happens after "Trust". I'm hoping to update once a week or so, but we'll see if that happens. Every chapter should be able to read as a stand-alone little ficlet anyways.

Giles felt as if he was in a dream. That morning he had been prepared to start a new job in a new town - which might have been exciting in another life, but for him were mere distractions from his real reason for being in Sunnydale - that, for the first time, he had been assigned to a Slayer. 

Then suddenly, Jenny was there. The girl he had fallen in love with twelve years ago, as beautiful as he’d remembered, as electric as a bolt from the blue. Her combative edges softened by maturity, but far from gone; her energy now paired with a confidence that hadn’t fully developed when he’d known her before. Falling back in love with Jenny had been easy, almost automatic. What was more surprising was that she loved him too.

And now they were in the elevator up to her apartment, and she was kissing him, as he’d imagined years ago, as he’d dreamt of. Jenny, softly biting his lips and curling her fingers in his hair. Giles held her closer, just to make certain she was really there. 

They stumbled into her apartment. Giles had a moment to notice that it was still strewn with boxes, the living room furniture in a chaotic jumble in the centre of the floor. He thought of offering to help Jenny unpack. But then she slammed the door shut behind her with a bang. She shrugged off her leather coat and kicked off her shoes. Holding his gaze, she pushed the tweed jacket off of Giles’ shoulders, and gently shoved him backwards until his back hit the wall. Then they were kissing again, Jenny’s hands and lips insistent. Giles felt like he was being carried away by her momentum, like he was caught in a whirlwind of her kisses. While it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, Giles was beginning to feel a steady lessening of control over the situation that made him uneasy. He was with Jenny, something he never thought would happen, and he didn’t want to make any mistakes

“Jenny-” he tried to say when he had the chance, but Jenny just murmured his name back to him, and moved on to untying his tie.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her off of him. “We don’t have to rush this,” he said. 

She looked at him with searching eyes. “You’re right,” she said. 

Giles felt that he could easily get lost in those eyes. He smiled, and brushed Jenny’s hair off her forehead. It struck him how soft her hair was.

With one hand, Jenny undid the top button of his shirt, and traced the “v” of his clavicle with her finger. She continued, “After all, I’ve just been fantasizing about having your cock inside me for twelve years, what’s a little while longer?”

Any semblance of thought was dashed from Giles’ mind. All that existed was the flash of fire in Jenny’s eyes, the curl of her lips. And then the image of Jenny, at eighteen, at twenty-four, at yesterday-years old, touching herself to thoughts of _ him _ . And then the sensation of Jenny shifting her weight so that her abdomen brushed against his rapidly stiffening erection. And her, looking at him with that smile, those eyes.

He gulped. “I-I mean, w-whatever speed you’re comfortable with,” he stammered.

Jenny grinned. She stood on her toes as if to kiss him, but only brushed her lips very lightly against his. She looked into his eyes as she undid his belt and pants, and closed her hand around his cock. His breath shuddered, and Giles felt absolutely lost, but he was happy to be lost with Jenny. 

She turned her head to kiss his neck, his jaw, his ear, and whispered, “You know the first time I gave a blowjob I imagined he was you.”

His stomach twisted at the thought of a teenaged Jenny awkwardly pleasuring a man she didn’t entirely want to be with, and he sputtered, “Wha-?”

But then Jenny dropped to her knees. She slowly licked up the shaft and around the head of his cock, and then took him entirely in her mouth, and for the second time all thoughts left Giles’ brain. 

She looked up at him from under her lashes, humming and swirling her tongue as she bobbed her head in long strokes. He had never dared to imagine Jenny this way, not even in his dreams, and she was intoxicating. But what he wanted so much more than this was to light up Jenny’s senses, make her gasp out his name, knowing that he loved her. He wanted to make her shine. 

“Jenny,” he moaned, and she sucked on him hard. He gasped, feeling himself close to coming. 

“Jenny, please stop,” he said through clenched teeth. She did stop, technically, but she kept sliding her hand up and down his shaft, while her tongue teased the tip of his cock, a wicked glint in her eye.

Giles curled his fingers in her hair, and with a growl, pulled her to her feet and spun her around so that her back was against the wall. She grinned with excitement, and her gaze flickered between his eyes and his mouth. 

He took one deep breath, then another. He kissed her softly. He murmured, “I love you,” against her lips. He unzipped her dress, and slid the straps off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. He caressed her, and again whispered, “I love you.”

“Rupert,” she chided, “This isn’t my first time.”

He stopped, and blinked at her in confusion. “I-I know…” 

“You don’t have to hold back,” she said with a smirk. 

“I-I’m not, I just…”

The confident smirk slid off Jenny’s face. Colour began to rise in her cheeks. “Oh.”

Giles stepped away from her. His face felt hot and he was suddenly aware of the sound of the TV in the apartment next door. Something had gone wrong, but he couldn’t connect how it had happened, and Jenny’s evident discomfort was making it even harder to process. 

“This… this was too soon,” he said, not looking Jenny in the eye.

“No,” Jenny protested, without thinking. Then, “I guess.” Then, “Can we start over?”

“Um…” Giles hesitated. He didn’t want to leave things so awkwardly between them, but also didn’t know what to do next.

How long had they actually known each other? A few weeks, maybe two months? Giles could count the number of occasions that they’d spent time together on one hand. And all that was over a decade ago. 

His decision to declare his love for her suddenly seemed very rash. 

“We don’t have to rush,” Jenny said. “We could just talk.” She looked at him hopefully.

And yet he couldn’t imagine having done anything differently. He did love her. 

She held out her hand, and he took it, and let her lead him into the bedroom.

* * *

Jenny’s bedroom was as unfinished as the rest of her apartment. Her bed was set up, but nothing else was in its place. Clothes were in haphazard piles, where she’d left them that morning when she was getting dressed. Not even her computer was set up yet. The light from the setting sun slanting through the blinds set the mess in even sharper relief. Somehow Jenny felt more self-conscious about the state of her room than about the fact that she was all but naked in front of Rupert. 

But he didn’t seem to notice the room at all, his gaze was fixed on Jenny. He watched her thoughtfully, almost warily, but she didn’t feel exposed. 

She didn’t think about what to do next, not really, she just felt that things would be better if they were closer. So she took off the rest of Rupert’s clothes, and he let her. She tried to look at his body with the same ease that he seemed to look at her, but she couldn’t suppress the jolt of surprise at what good shape he was in - with his greying hair and lined forehead, she had lowered her expectations in that regard. She stepped out of her underwear, climbed under the covers of her bed, and held out her hand to him. He joined her. 

Jenny curled up against him. She placed a hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat. His breathing gradually slowed, and he began stroking her hair. 

They stayed like that for a long time. Jenny thought about what she could say to get them back to where they’d been before, giddy and ecstatic with one another, and if that was possible. She thought about what Rupert needed to know about her, what it meant to be honest, and what words would be the most truthful. As she was thinking, the sun set, and the room turned dark. With Rupert’s breathing, and his hand in her hair, she began to fall asleep, before snapping back at the last moment. She realized that in spite of how the evening had gone, she was still comfortable with him. 

“Rupert? Are you awake?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

Jenny considered turning on a bedside lamp before remembering that they were still packed away in boxes. She thought it was just as well.

“Can we talk?”

“Yes,” he said gently. 

Jenny rolled onto her back, still resting her head on his shoulder. She took his hand and laid it on her stomach, and traced his fingers with her own. She hesitated. He waited. 

“I  _ did _ get over you,” she said, when she finally spoke. “It just took a while, and it was never a hundred percent. But I was basically over you.” She took a breath. “That’s not the important part. It’s just a clarification.” 

Rupert started stroking her hair again, and Jenny focused on the sensation, letting it soothe her. 

She continued, “When I got home, it was a pretty dark time for me. I thought that I would never be as happy as I was in London. Of course, that wasn’t true,” she added quickly, “I just didn’t know that at the time.” 

Jenny laced her fingers through Ruperts', and took another deep breath. She closed her eyes, thinking back to what it was like to be eighteen and alone and miserable. 

“I used to fall asleep imagining that something would happen to Angel,” she said. “That he’d just walk into a sunbeam or fall onto a stake, and that would be the end of my obligations. Then I’d pack up, and fly to London. I’d knock on your door. And when you saw me there…” her voice softened, “... you’d sweep me off of my feet and make love to me. Like you were starving for me.” Jenny spoke slowly, uncomfortable with how the words felt in her mouth, but certain that they were the most honest she could use. “That’s how  _ I _ felt. I was starving to be loved. I imagined that we’d travel around the world and live in exciting places and do beautiful things, and have the most amazing sex. Like you couldn’t get enough of me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Love was an ache in the pit of my stomach, that nothing ever seemed to fill. Except for time. And… even when I was with other men,” she said in a tone that implied she had also been with not-men, “it was hard not to think about you, a little.”

Rupert was quiet for a long moment. Jenny would have started to worry, except for the fact that he kept stroking her hair, steady and soothing. 

“So no pressure,” he finally said, with a light tone that wasn’t quite joking. 

“Yeah, sorry.” She said it with a laugh, but still wondered if she had said the wrong thing, again. “What did you imagine about me?” she asked.

“Nothing, you were eighteen.”

She turned over to look at him. The dim glow of the streetlamp through her window was still bright enough that Rupert could see her incredulous stare.

“I deliberately avoided thinking about you,” he insisted.

She raised her eyebrows.

“I had dreams,” he admitted. “Typically involving candlelight and rose petals.”

Jenny couldn’t help but smile at that. “And reciting Shakespeare sonnets to each other?” she asked, thinking back to that sunset on the Thames.

He laughed gently, and continued, “When I woke up from those dreams, I would think about running into you, years later. I would see you from afar, laughing and carefree. I’d go up to you, and you’d be happy to see me. You would tell me about your life, and say that there’s still a place for me in it.”

Compared to her own elaborate fantasies, Jenny was surprised at how simple Rupert’s was. It was nearly exactly what had happened that day. And yet, Jenny thought, she had still managed to mess it up somehow. 

“And then?” she prompted. 

“And then… candlelight and rose petals,” he said, looking remarkably shy about the admission, considering that he was lying naked in bed with her. 

Jenny propped herself up on one elbow to better see Rupert’s face. “You really are an old-fashioned romantic, huh?” She said thoughtfully, trailing her fingers across his hairline and down to his jaw. She kissed him lightly. 

Rupert cupped her face in one hand and pulled her in for a second, deeper kiss. 

“You know, as a technopagan, I have lots of candles,” she whispered.

He smiled, and kissed her again. He grazed her lips with his teeth and slid his tongue along hers. He traced one hand along her spine, and pressed their bodies together…

Then flipped Jenny onto her back. Her yelp of surprise turned into sighs as he kissed her neck and collar, sucking bruises into her skin. On hand cupped her breast, squeezing and caressing, while the other pressed between her legs, slowly stroking her clit. She moaned as he dipped his head lower, and pulled her nipple between his teeth, not quite hard enough to hurt. His mouth returned to her neck, then her lips. 

“That’s not strictly necessary,” he said in a low voice that made her shiver. 

He paused, gazing into her eyes. 

He added, softly. “But I think I would like for us to take our time.”

Jenny nodded, her heart suddenly racing.

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly. “Relax,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

Jenny nodded again.

He returned his attention to her breasts, caressing and squeezing, kissing and sucking. Building from gentle to rough enough to make her grit her teeth, and then back down again, never crossing the line into pain. Meanwhile the fingers of his other hand slid into her, slowly but persistently thrusting and curling to hit her G-spot, as he thumbed her clit at an increasing pace. 

She had never felt such a steady rise to climax, or so much of the sensation in her chest. When she began to repeat his name, fast and stuttering, and her hips twitched beyond her control, Giles’ hand left her breasts so he could finish himself off, watching her face as the orgasm washed over her.

After Jenny had caught her breath, and Giles had cleaned himself up, he climbed back into bed.

He held her against him, so that her back was pressed against his chest. She took his hand in hers and held it against her heart.

“Is this too slow for you?” he asked.

“No,” Jenny replied, drowsiness already evident in her voice. “It’s good.”

He kissed her shoulder, and said softly, “If we’re being honest with each other, when we were in London, I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

“Mm,” Jenny replied, as she fell asleep. “Good...” 

* * *

Giles listened to Jenny’s slow, even breathing. She felt very slight in his arms, almost unreal. But she was real. Not a dream, but flesh and blood, tangible and imperfect. He loved her. He smiled to himself, and closed his eyes to fall asleep. 


	2. On the Town, Part 2

The first couple of days of school, Rupert showed up reliably at Jenny’s computer lab when the lunch bell rang, and even made quick visits in between classes. He hovered in the doorway, doing his best to suppress an unprofessionally dopey smile, ready to snatch a kiss from her the second they were alone. Jenny started to wonder if he had any actual work to do in the library. But she didn’t complain about the attention. 

So it was strange when, halfway through the week, he didn’t show up at her class at all, and wasn’t even in the staff room at lunch. Jenny made polite conversation with her coworkers, and wondered where Rupert was.

The final bell rang, students rushed out of her classroom, and Jenny shut down the computer lab. Still no Rupert. She made her way to the library. 

The library was dim and cool. Whoever designed the school probably thought the skylight in the centre of the room would have helped with that, but the shaft of daylight that beamed down did little more than add ambiance, highlighting the dust in the air 

Behind the sunbeam, surrounded by stacks of leather-bound books, fragile manuscripts, and yellowed newspapers, sat Giles. His sleeves were rolled up, and he seemed entirely engrossed in the book he was reading. He didn’t even seem to notice the sound of Jenny’s footsteps breaking through the silence.

“Hey,” Jenny said, almost cautiously.

Giles looked up, startled, but immediately brightened when he saw her. “Oh! Hello… Is it lunchtime already?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “It  _ was _ ... three hours ago...”

“Oh…” He blinked, befuddled but not surprised. “I must have lost track of time.” 

It occurred to Jenny that this was the first time she was seeing Rupert in his element. Any hints of annoyance that she might have felt melted away, replaced with curiosity.

“Whatcha reading?” she asked, circling the table and scanning its contents.

Giles gestured towards the newspapers. “I started looking into some of the local history, and, well, one thing led to another…”

“So this is what an internet rabbit hole looks like in real life?”

He cocked his head in confusion.

“Nevermind,” Jenny smirked. “Is all this about Sunnydale?” 

She picked up a newspaper from the 1970s with the blaring headline:  _ 12 FOUND DEAD IN GRUESOME RITUAL MURDER _ . Under that was an issue that read:  _ DISAPPEARANCES PLAGUE COMMUNITY _ . And under that:  _ UNIDENTIFIED CORPSE SHOCKS HOMEOWNERS _ . And many more issues besides. She began to understand how Giles had gotten so wrapped up in his research. 

“In one way or another, yes. It seems that a great many odd things have happened here.”

“‘Odd’ is one way to put it…” Jenny said, tossing aside a paper with particularly gory photos splashed across the front page. She picked up a book that Rupert had left open on a chapter about incubi. Wheels were turning in her head, and a sense of inquisitiveness bordering on excitement built in her chest, like Sunnydale was a puzzle waiting to be solved. “This can’t all be coincidence. You think there’s something going on with the town itself?”

A look of excitement flashed in Rupert’s eyes that matched her own, and he was clearly doing his best not to smile at the horror arrayed around him. “I believe so, though I need to do more research. There are some historical sites that I’d like to investigate: a Spanish mission at the edge of town, maybe one of the older cemeteries.” 

Jenny grinned. “Sounds like a date!”

* * *

Saturday was bright and hot for a January day. The sun glared off the white stucco of the mission walls, and beat off of the flagstone floor, as the tour guide led the small group around. 

Rupert was all but vibrating with excitement and Jenny did her best not to break out laughing at him. He listened intently to the guide, which was necessary to read between the lines of the stories of the many “tragedies” and “disasters” that befell the mission. For her part, Jenny couldn’t bring herself to focus on the guide’s droning voice, and looked around, returning to the group every so often to nudge Rupert and point to sigils carved into an archway, or what looked like claw marks on old wooden beams, or dark stains on the flagstones. 

The mission was a short drive from the beach. Grassy dunes rolled into a broad expanse of sand that reflected back the heat of the sun, making up for the cool breeze off the ocean. Jenny laid out a blanket on the grass, and Giles set out the lunch that he had prepared. The time of year meant that there weren’t many people, and the sound of the highway behind them blended into the sound of the crashing waves. 

“Okay: wow,” Jenny said when they were settled.

“Is that about the food or the mission?” Giles asked.

Jenny smiled. “The mission.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “I mean, the food is good. But did you see the altar?”

He nodded, eyes glinting. “It was unlike any Christian altar I’ve ever seen.”

“Who do they think they’re kidding?”

“Most people, evidently. I wish I had more time to study it. The horns that adorned the base were almost certainly demonic in origin.”

“I thought you would say that. Which is why I made sure to snap some photos.” Jenny pulled a disposable camera out of her purse. Then, without warning, she pointed it at Rupert and took his picture.

“Hey!” he laughed. 

“Camera shy?” she teased. 

“No, I just want to make sure that you get my best angel.” He struck a pose, looking over the ocean with a stoic expression. In his linen slacks and shirtsleeves Jenny thought that Rupert looked like he was pulled from a 19th century romance novel about the idle rich. She took his photo again. He turned to her, smiling. 

They stayed on the beach for a while, talking and nibbling on food, and using up the rest of the film. With the sun and the waves and Rupert’s smile, Jenny thought that she had never felt so relaxed, so at ease. Spending time with someone that she kept no secrets from, that she felt unashamed with, she felt whole. Which was just as head-spinningly thrilling and somewhat frightening as stumbling across the remains of a demonic cult in a small California town. 

* * *

After lunch, Giles and Jenny visited a cemetery. For supposedly being the oldest one in town, there seemed to be an unusual number of fresh graves. Most of the tombstones were tilting and moss-covered, the names and dates mostly lost to time. There were also a number of mausoleums belonging to the wealthier families of Sunnydale’s past. Their names were engraved deep enough to still be readable, above thick metal doors fastened with heavy locks.

“D’you think that’s to keep grave robbers out, or to keep the dead in?” Jenny asked, strolling up to Giles’ side and lacing her fingers with his. 

Giles glanced down at her. She wore a cream-coloured dress with a long white cardigan, which Giles thought made her look quite ethereal, and distractingly lovely. She was also wearing the cross that Giles had given her. 

“Both, I’d wager,” he answered.

Giles supposed that there ought to have been at least a thread of terror along with the buzz of anticipation he felt when he thought about getting to work with the Slayer and facing off against the monsters he had spent so long studying. And not only from an academic standpoint: here was his chance to do more good for the world than he could ever do behind the walls of the Watcher’s Council. 

Of course, being with Jenny was having its effect as well. It was like getting a hit of adrenaline. Every time she was close, Giles could feel his heart racing. She reeled off facts and theories that she had found through her own research, making Giles work to keep up. She unsettled him, just like she always had, the way that sprouting plants unsettle concrete, the way that spring unsettles snow. 

“You’re staring,” Jenny said, a gentle curl to her lips.

Giles blushed. “Sorry, I was…”

She tilted her head curiously, her gaze attentive. Giles felt he was unimaginably lucky to have her look at him that way. 

“I was just wondering if it would be too macabre to kiss you right now.”

Jenny answered his question without words.

* * *

Jenny had looked up occult paraphernalia shops in town, of which there were a surprising number, and suggested that they check some of them out. The first one displayed horrifically taxidermied animals alongside statues of earth goddesses, had plastic dreamcatchers hanging in the window, and a collection of bones that clearly did not distinguish between replica, animal, and real human bones. They left that one fairly quickly. The next two were somewhat better. 

The fourth store they entered was in a different league. It was a walk-down, and only indirect light filtered through the windows. A few trinkets were displayed near the entrance to distract dilettantes, but most of the stock was kept under lock and key in glass cases or behind the counter. The clerk - a tall young man with long black hair and dichromatic eyes - nodded at them as they came in. Giles spotted a bookcase and made a beeline, while Jenny approached the counter.

Giles pulled a volume off of the shelf and leafed through it, only half listening to what Jenny was saying. In every store they’d been in so far, she’d done the same thing: told the shopkeeper that she was looking for an athame dagger, and asked for recommendations. It seemed that she was yet to be impressed. 

This time was evidently different, as Giles heard the sound of a sale being rung up. He kept flipping through the pages of the book. 

Then he heard Jenny say, “So I’m new in town… where does a girl go to find some fun around here?” Her tone was nothing more than friendly, but still Giles felt compelled to snap the book shut and join her at the counter. 

The clerk was writing some addresses on the back of Jenny’s receipt. Giles stood beside Jenny and circled one arm around her waist.

“Find anything you want?” Jenny turned to ask him. 

“No, I think I’m fine.” Giles answered.

The clerk passed Jenny her receipt with a closed smile, and Giles sized him up out of the corner of his eye. The man was good-looking, Giles had to admit, but in a way that was so striking that he seemed untouchable. Giles realized that that wasn’t much of a flaw.

As they left Jenny turned and waved, saying, “Thanks again, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around!”

Giles knew he was being silly. Nothing had happened for him to be jealous of. He couldn’t lose his head every time Jenny talked to someone who happened to be younger and better looking than him. Jenny had held a torch for him for twelve years, and wasn’t that all he needed to know? 

But that was also the problem. Jenny had spent twelve years dreaming about a fantasy version of him. Giles did not need any reminders that he had a lot to live up to, and that he could very well fall short of expectations.

“What was that about?” Giles asked calmly as they walked to the car. 

Jenny shrugged. “I just thought it would be useful to know where the cool kids hang out, especially if I want to track down information about what Angel’s doing. Also, from my research, it seems like the only above-board club in town is all-ages, and I gotta find somewhere to go dancing. But that’s for another day.”

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, trying not to look terrified at the thought of Jenny dragging him along to an occultist dance club. 

When they reached the car, Jenny handed the athame to Giles.

“For you.”

Giles blinked in surprise, and took the dagger from her. “Oh! Thank you.”

“I have one already,” she explained, tucking her hair behind her ear, and looking almost shy for a moment before she added, “Keep in mind it’s for ritual purposes only, not general stabbiness.” 

Giles turned the athame over in his hands. It had a good weight to it, and the ebony handle was intricately inlaid with mother-of-pearl. 

“Noted. Thank you,” he said appreciatively.

However it wasn’t the gift, but the way Jenny beamed at him that drove any lingering thoughts of jealousy from his mind. 

“What are we doing now?” she asked.

“Would you like to come to my place? I can make us dinner.”

“Sounds delicious.”

* * *

In addition to thinking about dinner plans on the drive home, Giles thought about his plans for Jenny. The week since they’d fallen asleep next to each other had felt like an eternity. The memories of the way she moaned his name, the way her body arched under his, the look on her face as she came, kept returning to Giles at random moments. He wanted to show Jenny just how good taking their time could be - and moreover, that was the one area where Giles was quite certain that he could live up to Jenny’s expectations. And he was determined to prove it. 

“Nice place,” Jenny said as she entered his apartment, looking around appreciatively. Giles set down the picnic basket and knife by the door. 

“I’m glad you think so,” he said.

He walked up to Jenny, brushed her hair off her forehead, then let his hands settle on her waist. She tilted her face up, expecting to be kissed. Giles leaned closer, letting his breath graze her lips.

Suddenly, he lifted Jenny up, spun around, and pinned her to the wall. He swallowed her gasp of surprise with a kiss. After a moment, Jenny twined her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. She moaned as one of his hands gathered up her skirt and slid along her thigh. 

Then he drew back, gently letting Jenny slide down the wall until her feet were on the ground. He stepped away so he could give her a long look, up and down her body, and licked his lips deliberately. He noticed Jenny take a sharp breath, and he smiled, pleased with himself.

He turned and walked towards the kitchen, asking, “Do you like Mexican food? I thought I’d make fish tacos.”

Jenny’s voice was breathless when she replied, “Yeah. Yeah that’s good.”

* * *

Jenny wasn’t about to admit it, but a part of her was relieved when Rupert went to cook dinner. There was something about the way that he looked at her that almost scared her - not that  _ he _ was scary, but the way it made her feel. Unsettled, like floorboards breaking under her feet, like a nest turned upside down. She pushed the feeling aside. Rupert knew her like no one else did, that made him safe, not scary. 

Jenny listened to Rupert softly singing to himself in the kitchen, his voice low and grounding, and smiled, forgetting her momentary nerves. She wandered over to the bookcase. It was full from end to end with books, with no space for trinkets or knick-knacks. She ran a finger across a row of spines, some bound in leather, some in silk. On closer inspection, she noticed that not all the volumes were as ancient as they first appeared, some might have even been published in the last 50 years, but they were all so carefully crafted that they looked like they were from a different era. 

One title caught Jenny’s eye,  _ Vengeance as a Mystical Force _ . Her stomach twisted, remembering her uncle’s long lectures on the subject. She wondered what the book had to say, and pulled it off the shelf. It fell open in her hands, as if it had been opened to that spot many times before. Jenny hadn’t even started reading when a name on the page caught her eye:  _ Kalderash _ .

Jenny snapped the book shut and shoved it back on the shelf, though she wanted to tear the pages out and burn them. She took a breath.  _ He already knows, Janna _ , she reminded herself.  _ You don’t have to hide. _

“Would you like to choose a wine?” Rupert asked from the kitchen. “They’re kept by the bookshelf.”

Jenny glanced down and saw a small wine rack. She pulled out what she was fairly certain was a white.

“How’s this?” she asked as Giles walked over. 

“Perfect,” he said, without so much as glancing at the bottle. He stood behind Jenny, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed his lips to her temple.

Jenny relaxed. She felt like she could melt into his arms, and wished that she could stay that way forever.

* * *

They ate in the courtyard, the slanting rays of sun casting everything in a golden light, and talked about cold cases and demonic activity.

“I wonder where Angel fits in all of this,” Jenny said. “There’s so much going on in Sunnydale, maybe he’s not here because of the Slayer after all.” 

“Are you worried?” Giles asked. 

Jenny shrugged. “Maybe. He hasn’t done anything for so long, and then suddenly he up and moves to this place… I’ll need to find a way to keep closer tabs on him.”

Giles furrowed his brow, concern flickering across his face. “Perhaps that’s something better left for when the Slayer arrives.” 

Jenny rolled her eyes and smiled. “I think the Slayer will have enough to worry about without me asking her to run my errands for me.”

He pursed his lips. “Still…”

“I’ll think about it later,” Jenny said, with a wave of her hand. 

The conversation moved on, and Giles visibly relaxed. 

The moon appeared in the sky, and then the first stars. Jenny could feel the wine going to her head, just enough to be enjoyable - but that might also have been the way that Rupert was looking at her. 

They went inside. As Giles took the dishes to the kitchen, Jenny’s gaze drifted up to the loft, where she could see the bed. Her heart skipped with anticipation. 

He walked over to where she was standing at the foot of the stairs, and kissed her softly.

“Rupert?” she murmured.

“Mm hm?”

“We’re still taking our time, right?”

She felt him smile against her lips. “Yes.”

“Good,” she sighed, and leaned into the kiss.

Rupert drew back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jenny was momentarily confused. The next thing she knew, he had picked her up, bridal style, and was carrying her up the stairs.

Jenny squeaked in surprise, tightening her arms around his neck. Then she started laughing, from shock, and at just how ridiculously, wonderfully  _ romantic  _ Rupert was. She was still laughing when he laid her on the bed, and collapsed next to her, catching his breath. 

She turned over, not sure yet whether she was going to tease Rupert or kiss him. She saw him laying on his back, a pained expression on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jenny asked, suddenly concerned.

“Um…” he seemed hesitant to answer. “That was a mistake.”

“What, did you hurt your back or something?”

He began to blush. “Ah… yes…” 

Jenny thought she should have been disappointed, but instead she found herself struggling to keep from laughing again. “Aw, babe…” she said, and kissed Rupert’s forehead, his cheek, his jaw.

Rupert whined petulantly. “I'm fine, I just need to…” he propped himself up on his elbows before collapsing again and shutting his eyes in pain and embarrassment. “Not… move…” His face turned even redder. 

Jenny bit her lip and smiled. She didn’t mind Rupert being utterly helpless. In fact, there was something she liked about the idea, something that made her earlier nervousness seem like a distant memory. 

She kissed him briefly, and he grumbled incoherently. She kissed him again, and again, until he opened his eyes and looked at her. 

“You know,” she said as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt, “this doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

His eyes widened. Jenny’s hand moved lower, stopping when she got to his belt. 

She straddled his hips, and pulled her dress off over her head. Rupert gulped. She leaned over him, bringing her lips close enough to his to feel his breath, holding his gaze.

“Relax,” Jenny said. “Trust me...”


End file.
